Dust by Scott Schuleit

The leaf obeys its Creator,

wavering its green in the tireless,

unfailing wind.

And the sky

continually bears

on its immense back,

a burden of blue.

And when a storm comes on

the clouds darken,

weaving together without question,

and from this,

lightning loses its silver,

its flicker and flash,

always obeying

with sudden bursts of illumination.

The rain falls willingly,

dropping down

to pummel dry earth,

mixing it into mud

as it should,

a task performed

without hesitation,

yet the dust,

that which is most blessed,

crowned over all creation,


burns with a rage

deep in its breast.


Posted on February 17, 2016 and filed under Poetry.